'Twas a bleak dull moor that stretched before
The low stone porch of the cottage door,
And standing there was youth and maid,
He for long journeying seemed arrayed,
And the sunset flamed in the burnished west,
And a proud throb beat in the young man's breast,
As he whispered, "Sweet, will you come to me
In that fairer land beyond the sea?"

"The wonderful western land; in dreams
I have seen its prairies green, and gleams
Of its shining waterfalls, valleys fair,
And a voice in my dreams has called me there
Where man is a man, and not a clod,
And must bend the knee to none but God.
A home will I make for thee and me
In that fairer land beyond the sea."

"But the cruel seas where the fated ships
Go down to their doom"--But he kissed the lips--
The trembling lips, till they smiled again,
And his bright hopes cheered her heart's dull pain,
And she laid her head on his hopeful breast,
And looked with him to the glowing west,
And said, "I will come, I will come to thee
To that fairer land beyond the seas."

And the crimson light changed to daffodil--
To ashen gray, but they stood there still,